


Homecoming

by 6Writers1Trenchcoat



Category: Just Roll With It (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Description of wounds, Fights, Reunions, Unpleasant environment, prison break - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23956603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/6Writers1Trenchcoat/pseuds/6Writers1Trenchcoat
Summary: After Br’aad nearly set fire to an entire town, Mountain tells him to fuck off. For good. And so he does just that.!SPOILER WARNING FOR THE END OF ARC 1. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!
Comments: 8
Kudos: 89





	Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> This was written by ShadowReaper_912 and NitroStars of The Trenchcoat. It ended up...longer than we expected. Please enjoy!

Br’aad knew from the moment he laid hands on it, that the odd wand given to him by Ob’nockshai meant  _ business.  _ He didn’t know  _ what  _ business, not at first. It was quickly learned when he set that meadow on fire. His friends, his  _ family,  _ were exasperated at him, the sour faces evidence enough. The scent of burnt greenery filled the air, and blackened hairs were shown as Velrisa turned her back on him, refusing to acknowledge his apologetic words. His offer of a haircut fell on deaf ears, and he turned towards his dwarf friend, mouth open to make the same offer. It snapped shut upon seeing a fiery glare, more so than the meadow that they had barely managed to put out.

“Mountain, uh...I’m-” Mountain held up a finger, silencing the half elf’s already shaky words.

“No. You know what, Br’aad? I am sick and  _ tired  _ of your...everything! You are childish, immature. You show a lack of control that I have only ever seen in  _ infants,  _ and now this? I’ve had enough.” Those words stung, but Br’aad knew, deep down, that the dwarf was right.

“I...I know Mountain. Please, there’s gotta be something I can do to make it up to you? Anything.” Clasped hands raised towards the shorter man as he pleaded with him, wanting nothing more than the forgiveness of the people he had grown so close to.

“You know what? There  _ is  _ something you can do for me Br’aad. I need you to listen closely, it’s very important that you understand what I’m about to ask of you.” Br’aad nodded, eager to complete the dwarf’s request.

“I want you to fuck off.” Mountain remained straight faced as he spoke the words that chilled Br’aad to his bones, and he stood there for a moment, attempting to stutter out a response.

“I...You...What?”

“Fuck. Off. You heard me. Leave, Go away, whatever. I just can’t stand to see your dumbass face for one more minute.”

“I-You want me to...to leave?” Mountain nodded.

“Yes. Leave. Stop talking, and just  _ go away. _ ” 

Br’aad felt his whole body slump, Mountain didn’t really want him to leave,  _ did he?  _ He looked to the rest of the party, for someone to back him up, that they wanted him here. Velrisa still had her back turned to him, Hilltree was disinterested, and both Taxi and… Sylnan looked disappointed.

“I… I- But… Sylnan- Sylnan back me up here… please?”

“Br’aad I- I’m sorry, but you could’ve hurt a  _ lot  _ of people. I think… Why don’t you just take some time, cool off.”

Br’aad could feel his heart breaking, the sour memory of the night he made his pact flooding his mind. It was exactly the same scenario: The look of disappointment, the tone of voice, the utter sense of abandonment he felt… The only difference this time was that there were other people who witnessed his massive fuck-up.

“I… yeah. Alright. I’ll just… I’ll just go-” He pointed to a small wooded area, not too far from the party- “I’ll just go over there for a while. Come get me in 20 minutes.” He gave the best smile he could, and despite how fake it was, they seemed to believe it.

Br’aad wandered over to the tree line, ducking into the woods. He sat himself under one of the thicker trees, large enough to completely hide his form. Once he was certain that the party couldn’t see him… He cried, hard. He thought maybe,  _ maybe _ he could finally make up for all the shit he did. He’d gotten Sylnan killed, he’d alerted the king, and now he set an entire meadow on fire. He knew he messed up- probably more than anyone else in the party had- and he was  _ trying  _ to make it better. But they didn’t see that, and at this point he was pretty sure he never would.

A thought entered his mind then. One that, at the time, made more sense than it probably should have.

_ If they really want you gone, just go. _

Shaky hands ran down his face as he tried to mop up the tears, only succeeding in making his hands damp. He was a screw up, had been practically all his life. Breathing deeply, he pushed himself up, using the rough tree to help him to his feet, and for once in his life, Br’aad was confident in what he was about to do. 

Until he heard that  _ stupid fucking _ ticking.

Scanning the surrounding trees, he caught sight of the fancy clothing of Ob’nockshai- the deity he had accidentaly made a pact with. Sauntering towards the half elf, Ob’nockshai’s face was graced with a smug grin.

“You know my boy, it’s odd. I had a…  _ sneaking suspicion  _ that something like this might happen one day, but so soon? I’m so sorry my son. These might not be the words you  _ want  _ to hear, but they’re the ones you  _ need  _ to hear. It might be time to return to your home, Br’aad. Go back there, tell the king of your noble deeds. He will forgive you.  _ I’m certain of it. _ ” Something about the others' words rubbed Br’aad the wrong way, but for once, his patron’s words reflected his thoughts perfectly, and he couldn’t help but nod.

“Good boy. Now, run along. Wouldn’t want your little ‘friends’ catching up with you before you get back, now would we?” Nodding once more, Br’aad watched as Ob’nockshai gave him a small smile before disappearing into the trees once more. 

Still standing, Br’aad glanced back. He barely caught a glimpse of his friends through the thick foliage, seeing them laughing with each other,  _ without him. _

Tears welled in his eyes once more, and his decision became final. Turning on one foot, he began to run through the trees, feeling loose branches and leaves hit against his arms and face, thin cuts beginning to cover his limbs. 

As the minutes passed, the party realized it’d been well over 20 minutes. Taxi was the one to bring this up.

“Uh… we should- we should go get Br’aad now, yeah?” The rest of the party agreed- though some more reluctantly than others- To go grab Br’aad and continue on their way.

As they approached the tree that Br’aad had ducked behind, they found… Nothing. Br’aad wasn’t there. Sylnan immediately started panicking, calling out for Br’aad. The others simply started searching, maybe he’d just fallen asleep somewhere nearby. But no matter where they searched, they couldn’t find him. He was gone.

Sylnan was hyperventilating at that point, his mind running through every scenario he could think of. What if he’s lost, what if an animal took him, what if a  _ person _ took him? They’d just been sitting next to the road and this whole time Br’aad had been gone. What if he was hurt?  _ What if he was dead? _

His frantic pacing and mumbling was cut short by a callous, but unfortunately possible remark from Mountain.

“Maybe he took my advice and finally fucked off for good.”

That made Sylnan’s blood boil, but… The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like it was what had happened. Br’aad had always been emotional, he never hid that, but it did make him do irrational things, to say the least.

The half-elf was about to charge off into the forest, desperate to not lose his little brother again, but Taxi stopped him. 

“We… We should probably go back to the town. They might know where he is. Besides, he can’t be far, right?” Taxi tried to offer some sort of stability to the situation, but he knew that this was bad. Really bad. While they were on their way to revive Sylnan, Br’aad had some… Episodes. They were small things, tiny moments of self-doubt and self-deprecation, but they stuck with Taxi. But for now, the best they could do was ask if Br’aad had passed through town. (feel free to add on)

Few people gave them the time of day- news had travelled that Br’aad had started the fire- and even fewer actually said anything of use to the group. Eventually, the only person they had yet to ask was the innkeeper.

“Have I  _ seen  _ him? Of course not, and I’d  _ hoped  _ to not see you lot either. But you know what I say? Good riddance to that menace.” Suddenly, the man was pressed against a wall, Sylnan pushing his arm against the others neck.

“Never. Call my brother a menace. Ever. Again.” With each word, Sylnan pressed against the man’s neck harder, growling the words into his face. Taxi rushed forward, struggling to pull the half elf away from the man who was rubbing at his neck. 

“Just drop it Sylnan. He obviously hasn’t seen anything.” Mountain spoke over his shoulder, having already started the walk back in the direction of the forest Br’aad had disappeared into.

Meanwhile, deep into the shrubbery, Br’aad was moving. He wasn’t sure where he was moving, but he sure was going… somewhere. He didn’t remember the way back to the well they came through, but he knew he had to find it. Just going to the border wasn’t an option, they’d kill him on the spot. He had to get to that well.

With frustration setting in, Br’aad ended up emerging from the treeline in a very familiar place. The scorched earth in front of him just brought his fuck up to the forefront of his mind. Taxi had attempted to heal some of the damage, but Br’aad had  _ really  _ fucked up, killing most of the grass outright. It would take years for this to be fixed.

He decided to stay there a while, thinking about his current situation. His own brother was upset with him. Again. It was the worst feeling in the world to Br’aad. He just wanted to have fun with his new friends, have adventures and bond. But he messed everything up, like he always did. 

Walking through the trees, Sylnan watched his feet guiltily. This was his fault- Br’aad had been seeking his help, his forgiveness, and he had basically told his brother that he was a fuck up. The smell of burnt grass still lingered in the air, but as the trees thinned, the smell got stronger. Looking up, Sylnan saw the charred meadow, just as they had left it less than an hour ago, except now- Br’aad was standing in the middle of it. Or at least, Sylnan  _ thought  _ he had been standing there.

He had taken his eyes off the form of Br’aad for one second- wanting to share his relief with the rest of the group- and when his gaze returned to the field, it was empty. Sylnan felt his heart drop as he ran into the meadow, coming to a stop where Br’aad had just been standing. Had he been hallucinating? 

Footsteps approaching from behind alerted him to the others coming closer, and Sylnan couldn’t help the weak sob that escaped him. A hand landed on his shoulder, and it squeezed lightly.

“We’ll find him Sylnan, don’t worry.” The tabaxi gave him a reassuring smile. Sylnan felt slightly better, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong here, and that he needed to find Br’aad.  _ Fast. _

One moment, he’d been in the burned field, but now he was at the well. The exact one he’d been searching for, actually. He could tell because the skeleton was still at the bottom. Ob was most certainly the one who brought him here, and thank the gods he did. Now Br’aad could properly fuck off for good. He carefully scaled down the damp walls, cutting his hands on the water worn rocks.

The hole they came through was still there, still dark and damp and narrow. It was much more frightening now, considering that he was alone with no light source. The crawl seemed so much longer, but he managed to get through. Now that he was on the other side of the tunnel, he realized just how dark it was. Even with his darkvision it was hard to see, and he didn’t have a torch this time either.

Despite that, he continued on. He retraced his steps best he could, but considering that he had little to no survival training, he was fucked. Just in the first few days of the dirt tunnels, he’d encountered droves of rats and other beasts. He wasn’t even to the sewers, yet he was covered in cuts, bruises, and mud. 

At least he got some time to think. Too much time, even. Every thought was of his failures. He’d set the meadow on fire, he alerted the king, it was his stupid plan that got Sylnan killed, and it was him who ruined Sylnan’s chances at a normal life.    
  
Days later, by the time he reached the sewers, he’d made up his mind. He didn’t want forgiveness from the king. He wanted to fix the mistakes he made And if that meant dying, he’d do it.

After those countless days, Br’aad found himself standing before a ladder. A very familiar ladder. The faint scent of iron lingered despite the amount of time it had been, and the stains remained- blood seeped into rope. This time though, the half elf wasn’t carrying a dead man as he hauled himself through the opening in the alleyway. 

The market street was just as busy as it had been that day, and the young man knew it would be easy to accomplish his goal here. Taking a moment to calm his mind, Br’aad cemented the goal in his mind. He knew what he had to do. No more innocent people would die- well, almost- by his hands.

Pulling his green scarf off, Br’aad clenched it in his fists before dropping it. Glancing down at the material one last time, Br’aad ran into the street. Coming to a complete stop in the centre of the dirt road, he felt the magic creep beneath his skin before he raised both hands and fired an eldritch blast directly into the sky. 

It was bright- brighter than it had ever been before- and the people walking around him stopped to stare at the spectacle. He knew his plan had worked when he heard sounds of heavy footfall approaching.

Br’aad slowly lowered his arms, waiting for the guards to grab him. Of course, it was just his luck that a familiar face decided to show up.

“You. You’ve come back here.”

“Dominion!” Br’aad feigned happiness towards the paladin. “It’s been a while hasn’t it!”

Suddenly, Br’aad was being held into the air, Dominion’s gloved fist threatening to rip his shirt. Somewhere near, he heard the sound of roaring thunder. It was deafening. He felt a punch hit him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him.

“We are  _ not  _ on first name terms, not anymore. You’re a traitorous rat, Vengolor. You deserve no mercy.”

Despite the gravity of the situation he found himself in, Br’aad managed to crack one of his classic shit-eating grins.

“Y’know what, Dominion? For once I agree with you.”

The last thing Br’aad remembered was being stabbed, an odd electricity travelling through the blade and into his body. He passed out right after.

When Br’aad woke up, he was honestly expecting not to. He figured that Dominion’s sword would have done him in, but he found himself conscious nonetheless. 

The room around him was cold, with walls made of rough stone and no light. It was one of the cells in the castle. There wasn’t much else in the room, not even a proper bed. Just a blanket, pillow, and a bucket. He was pretty sure he heard the skittering of bugs and rats too.

When he tried to stand up, he was hit with a blinding pain. He quickly sat back down and looked to his stomach, where he’d been stabbed. There were tight bandages wrapping his midsection, a tiny amount of blood beginning to show through. It was then he noticed that his clothes had been taken too, replaced with a simple white shirt and brown pants. 

At this point, Br’aad wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t know why they kept him alive- it wasn’t what he intended to happen- but here he was. Trapped in a damp dungeon, alone and completely abandoned. He was starting to think he made the wrong decision, and when he thought about the rest of the party, he sobbed. 

Mountain was pissed. Both drunk, and angry. It was a vicious cycle, and Br’aad suddenly disappearing did not help his mood. Taxi was sat with Sylnan, trying to console the distraught half elf. The dwarf had begun to feel bad when Sylnan broke down, and he had been thinking ever since. 

“Sylnan.” His head shot up, eyes rimmed with red as he looked at the other man. 

“Where would Br’aad go? You know him the best here, if he were upset and running away, where would he go?” Sylnan only looked more put out when Mountain finished speaking, and he heaved a weary sigh. 

“I-I don’t know Mountain. He’s… _ eccentric, _ and I’m his brother, not his babysitter. Why would I know-”

“Well if you don’t, you’re obviously not thinking hard enough! Some brother you are if you don’t even know where he’d go.” A scowl was directed this way as the half elf shakily got to his feet. 

“It’s not the first time he’s run away. From me. I didn’t know where he went then, I sure as hell don’t know where he’d go now. Especially now that we don’t have a home.” The look Sylnan directed at Mountain left no room for argument, but something he said stuck with the shorter man. 

“Don’t have a… a home anymore?” A nod. 

“The Wharf, that factory. They were the only home we ever knew, and after everything that happened, I doubt we’d be able to go back without facing execution or something.” Velrisa spoke up from where she had been standing, it was the first time any of them had heard her speak since Br’aad disappeared into the trees. 

“Maybe he went back then. If that’s his only home, maybe he wanted the comfort of a familiar place.”

“No, Br’aad wouldn’t be that stupid… would he?” Sylnan pulled one of his daggers out and stared at the blade. 

“Oh, fuck.”

Despite their reluctance to go back into those dark tunnels, it was the fastest- arguably safest- way back to the Wharf. Without Ugarth to lead them, it took the group a little longer to find the well and traverse the tunnels. It took them a few days- some of them actually had survival skills, and a decent sense of direction- but eventually, rough stone morphed back into the familiar walls of the sewers, and Sylnan took the lead from there. He knew these tunnels like the back of his hand, and he led them to a rope ladder that he vaguely remembered- though he wasn’t quite sure why. 

Taxi wrinkled his nose at the faint smell, both of the Wharf in general (something he had not missed), and of the blood. One by one, they scaled the ladder, Sylnan being the last one to climb out onto the streets of his home. Glancing around an all too familiar alleyway, he caught sight of a green he would know anywhere. As he reached down and grasped the dirty fabric in his hands, he realised that he was holding Br’aad’s scarf- a scarf he hadn’t seen his brother without since he gave it to him.

“Why is this here?” It was barely a whisper, but his friends seemed to catch his words, and worried looks etched onto their faces as they understood what this meant.

Br’aad had been here, the scarf was evidence enough. So where was he now? 

Br’aad didn’t know how long he’d been back in the wharf. They kept his cell windows blocked at all times, most likely in some cruel attempt to drive him mad. He also learned that his cell was warded from magic. Smart. 

At some point, Dominion came back. He dragged Br’aad out of his cell and brought him up to the throne room, where he faced the king. Or… not the king?

He looked pale- Extremely so- and he was significantly thinner. He’d lost so much weight that parts of his skin dangled off his body, not used to the new shape. He looked like death. Br’aad figured that the rumors were true, and the king truly had been delving into the magic web.

“Vengolor.” His voice sounded rough, as if he hadn’t spoken in days.

“Rigmund.”

“How does it feel,” Rigmund began to move towards Br’aad, “being trapped like the scum you are?”

“How does it feel to be a fake king?”

That earned Br’aad a solid boot to the back of his head. Dominion held him down to the floor, bending him over his knees. It hurt his stomach, and he could feel whatever supplies they used to close the wound opening.

“You betrayed me, Br’aad Vengolor. You signed a contract, and you broke it. I hired you to defeat Brenden… Now I wouldn’t be surprised if you came back as a scout for him-”

“Brenden is dead.”

Silence filled the room, tense and unexpected.

“What?”

“I said: Brenden. Is. Dead. My father is dead. I killed him myself. So technically, I did exactly what you asked.”

The king looked towards Br’aad, then turned away, clearly trying to think of what comes next. Dominion was actually the one to ask the next question. He removed his boot from Br’aad’s head too.

“If Brenden is dead, why come back? You knew you’d be arrested, is this some ploy? What are you planning?” His tone was accusatory. Br’aad didn’t appreciate it.

“Cool it, lighting bolt,” Br’aad straightened himself up, “I… I did something and pissed off the rest of our group. They told me to fuck off, so I did. I figured the best thing I could do was come here, try to fix something.”

Rigmund had a skeptical look, but sighed heavily. “Throw him back into the dungeon. I’ll decide what to do with him later.”

After that, Dominion dragged Br’aad back to his cell. He was tossed inside with little care, his wound stinging more as the door was slammed shut. Before the door window was closed, Dominion spoke.

“I don’t care what happened while you were gone. I don’t care what… adventure you went on. But if you followed your word and resurrected your brother, I swear to you, I’ll kill him myself. You can’t undermine the natural order without consequence.”

And with that, the window was covered, shrouding Br’aad in darkness once again. He went to lay down on his pillow, but he could feel a warm wetness on his stomach. His wound was open again, and the bandages were too dirty to block the blood from seeping out. He needed help, and he needed it fast. 

After finding Br’aad’s scarf abandoned in an alleyway, Sylnan began to panic. He hugged the green fabric close to his chest and tried not to cry over the thought that maybe they would be too late, that maybe he was already dead. 

Hilltree tugged at his pant leg, and looking down, Sylnan saw the Goblin looking up at him with wide eyes. 

“Syl’an, where is he? He- he can’t be… gone, can he?” The Vengolor knelt down so that he was face to face with the goblin he had grown so close to over the years, and he pulled the creature into a tight hug. 

“N-no, he’s not gone, Hilltree. Just… just missing. Like when he ran away from home- you wouldn’t remember that, but I found you not too long afterwards.” His attempt to console the goblin was met with shaking shoulders as the goblin cried into his chest. 

“Home. Maybe we should check that factory, Sylnan. You did say that was your home, right?” Sylnan nodded at Velrisa, giving Hilltree one last squeeze before letting go and standing up. 

Walking through the Wharf was never a pleasant experience- the smell, the people- it all made for an awful journey, but it didn’t take them too long to reach the factory.  _ Their  _ factory. Entering through the first floor, it was completely empty, and dead quiet. The body of their previous roommate- the rat king- was gone, but an odd presence remained. 

“Br’aad?” Sylnan called out, making his way up the stairs and to where the brothers had spent a large portion of their lives. It was exactly how they had left it, and while Sylnan was relieved that their home remained untouched, it also discouraged him. Any dust on the floor was level, undisturbed, and everything was left as it had been. 

Glancing to a pile of boxes at the side of the floor, Sylnan walked over and pulled open one at the side. Something was scrawled on the side of the box, but the half elf couldn’t have read it even if he had wanted to. 

While he rummaged through old and damaged belongings, Taxi’s voice startled him. 

“Useless? What does that mean?” Sylnan felt his hand wrap around something wooden and vaguely cylindrical, and he answered the tabaxi as he brandished the object. 

“It’s just old junk, mostly. Only reason to keep it around is that it could probably be sold for… not a whole lot.” To emphasise his point, Sylnan showed Taxi the item that he was holding in his hand. Laying in his palm, there was a small wooden doll. The clothes on it were dirty and had a few holes in them, and it was missing an arm, but otherwise it seemed to be in a decent state. 

“This was Br’aad’s favourite toy growing up. Made these ears so that it’d be more like him.” Turning the head of the doll, the small ears had been sharpened and vaguely resembled the ears of an elf. 

“That’s sweet an’ all, but that brother of yours is in a bit of a… sticky situation.” An unexpected voice caused Sylnan to almost drop the doll, but he managed to keep his grip on it. Spinning around, he caught sight of Tristen standing at the top of the stairs. 

“How did you-” The detective held up a gloved hand. 

“Now is not the time for questions, as I said before, Br’aad has gotten himself into a…  _ situation,  _ and if we don’t do something, I’m not sure he’ll make it through the rest of the week.” Sylnan gripped the doll so tight he was briefly worried about breaking it, but any thoughts that didn’t pertain to saving Br’aad were quickly shoved aside. 

“Where is he? What are you talking about?” Mountain began to question the halfling, pulling out his new sword in an attempt to be intimidating. The detective brushed off his behaviour though, turning and beginning to make his way back down the stairs. 

“Better follow me if you wanna see your brother alive again!” Rang back up the stairs, and Sylnan began to follow without a second thought. Mountain grumbled something as he sheathed his sword, but he also made to follow with the others. Br’aad’s scarf in one hand, his childhood doll in the other, Sylnan had never been more determined to be reunited with his brother.

Ducking and weaving through the streets was nothing new to Sylnan, but the route Tristen took was odd. He was constantly backtracking and taking inconvenient and long detours. Of course, when Sylnan took notice of the patrolling guards, he realized why Tristen was being so erratic. 

Eventually they ended up in the cellar of an abandoned building, mold coated and in ruin. There wasn’t much there, except some wooden furniture suffering from extreme wood rot. Tristen took a seat on top of the large table in the center of the room.

“So. Your brother appeared about two and a half days ago, seemingly out of nowhere. He used some sort of magic to draw attention to himself and then… stopped. Once the guards came, he just let himself be captured. It was bizarre.” Tristen’s explanation didn’t help much in the way of actually finding Br’aad.

“Wait, so he just gave himself up? Why the fuck would he do that?” Mountain was somewhere between disbelief and anger. They came all this way to save Br’aad, and he just let himself be arrested? It was stupid as all shit, at least from Mountain’s view.

“I’m getting to that. He had to be treated for a stab wound at the castle- pretty nasty one too- and then they just threw him into a magic-proof cell. Of course, having an outlaw who is one, captured, and two, alive, meant that there had to be an interrogation.

“And that’s when Br’aad revealed that Brenden was dead. Well, that and the reason he left you guys. Something about a fight and wanting to fix mistakes. After that they put him back in his cell and, well, he’s not doing good. The sword wound on his side isn’t exactly being treated properly and it’s most definitely going to kill him if the king doesn’t first.”

Tristen’s speech definitely left a lot of questions- Mostly about Br’aad and his whole thought process during this shitshow- But at least they knew where Br’aad was being held now. That meant it was time to start planning a course of action.

The plan was as follows; They’d find a guard, maybe lure him somewhere, and take his uniform. Sylnan would be the one in the armor. Sylnan and Tristen would go to the castle, with Taxi wildshaped in Tristen’s pocket. They move to the dungeons so Tristen can ‘interrogate’ Br’aad, break him out, and make their escape via the sewers. Velrisa and Mountain would be on standby if things got rough. All in all, it was a pretty good plan.

The only problem was that they’d actually have to pull it off, which was easier said than done.

They decided to wait until nightfall to start the operation, but the time from the planning to the actual execution was grueling on the party. The knowledge that Br’aad was being held in a terrible, nasty cell with little to no proper medical care was frightening at best. 

The waiting seemed to affect Sylnan the worst. He sat in the corner of the musty basement, running his thumb over the worn toy. He remembered the really bad nights at the orphanage, when the other kids got them good and almost definitely broke something. He recalled how, on nights like those, Br’aad would cling onto his doll like his life depended on it. 

He almost wishes that Br’aad could have the doll right at that moment. Maybe it would ease some of the pain. Maybe.

When the moon finally came out, it was time to start the plan.

Finding a guard was easy enough- patrols had been increased ever since Br’aad caused a scene. Luring him into an alley was almost deceptively easy, and once they were out of sight of any other guards or civilians, Hilltree jumped out of a crate and sunk a dagger into the man’s leg. Sylnan only felt slightly bad as they stripped the guard of his armour and dumped him behind some boxes. 

Going back to the basement, Tristen helped the half elf into the armour- making sure that he looked less like a thief, and more like a guard. Giving Taxi a small nod, the Tabaxi wildshaped into a scorpion, scurrying up the halfling’s pant leg and into his pocket. 

“Ok, remember the plan you two?” Tristen pointed at Mountain and Velrisa, both nodding in unison. 

“Well then. Guess it’s time to break one of you fools out of jail.  _ Again. _ ” With that, Tristen walked back into the streets, Sylnan in tow and Taxi in pocket. It didn’t take them very long to reach the castle gates, and with the detectives reputation, the guards posted there barely gave them a second glance as they casually walked into the walls of the castle. 

“I hope you remember the plan too, Sylnan.”

“Of course I do. I sneak Br’aad out while you tell the king that you’re here to interrogate him.” He received a nod, and when they reached the door to the dungeon, a hand on his arm stopped him from going any further. 

“Here, take this,” Tristen handed him the scorpion, “And don’t stray from the plan. You get in, you get out. No unnecessary stops. Got that?”

“Yes.” Slipping Taxi into his pocket, Sylnan- clad in the armour of a guard- opened the door leading down to the dungeon and stepped through it. Almost instantly, the air became stiff and damp, practically suffocating. He tried not to shiver, imitating the guards he had been avoiding practically all his life. 

Once in the dungeons, Sylnan noticed two guards, both armed to the teeth. It was the only cell being guarded, so he figured it was where Br’aad was being held. He started moving towards the cell, fully prepared to lie his ass off, when there was a loud bang on the cell door.

Sylnan couldn’t make out what he was saying, but it was Br’aad’s voice. He sounded quiet, weak, and nothing like himself. One of the guards slammed down his pike. Sylnan could hear what he said.

“We cannot let you out under any circumstance. Besides, this is the 5th time you’ve told that lie. We will not call the doctor, and we will not open this door.”

Sylnan felt his whole body stiffen when he realized what was happening. Tristen mentioned that Br’aad was injured- And it was clear that it was getting worse- and they wouldn’t let him see a doctor. They needed to get him to Vel and fast.

Steeling himself for a possible fight, Sylnan approached the pair of guards. They eyed him suspiciously.

“What are you doing down here? Our shifts don’t end until midnight.”

Well, there went Sylnan’s first lie. Time for plan B.

“Yeah uh, they spotted some suspicious people wandering ‘round back of the castle. They want all hands on deck, just in case.” He made his voice sound deeper so Br’aad (or the guards) wouldn’t recognize him.

“Uh huh. And who gave you the order?” Shit, he knew it was a bad lie, but he hoped that  _ maybe _ they’d fall for it. Sylnan didn’t know any names when it came to the royal guard. He was absolutely fucked. Unless…

“Dominion. He told me to come down here so you two could head up.” It was a gamble. A stupid one at that. But it was the best he could think of. Everything was moving in slow motion…

When one of the guards handed him their pike and told him to keep watch. Turns out Dominion was the right answer. Once he was sure they were gone, he let Taxi out of his pocket.

“Go find Br’aad’s stuff, it’s probably being kept down here somewhere. I’ll work on getting the cell open.” And they were both off, Taxi examining the dungeon for some sort of safe or chest and Sylnan picking the lock. 

There was a door at the back of the hall, different from the cell doors.  _ Bingo.  _ Taxi opened the door cautiously, and when he found no one inside, he began investigating. It was some sort of storage room, filled with shackles, weapons, keys, and an open bin at the back of the room with some familiar blue fabric poking out. Inside the bin was, well, everything Br’aad owned. His clothes, his book, and his cloak.

Meanwhile, Sylnan was making easy work of the lock. Once the door was open, he burst in, expecting to see his brother’s smiling face. Instead, he found Br’aad curled up on the grime-coated floor, a dark stain completely covering his left side and stomach. He was shaking and his breath was labored, something was deeply wrong. The injury was so much worse than he imagined.

When Taxi came back with Br’aad’s things, he found Sylnan struggling to move Br’aad without hurting him. It was clear Br’aad couldn’t walk in this condition, so they would have to improvise some way to get him out. And then he had an idea.

He set down the rest of Br’aad’s items and pulled out the large cloak, making it look like burlap. He and Sylnan moved Br’aad on top of the now transformed cloak and carefully drew up the sides, turning it into a makeshift sack. They placed the rest of his items with him in there, and it was time to go. 

Carefully pulling the bag over his shoulder, Sylnan closed and relocked the cell door. Taxi wildshaped once more and climbed into Sylnan’s pocket, and they were off. Of course, it would look extremely suspicious, but he knew this was going to be a close call from the beginning. As carefully as he could, Sylnan resurfaced into the castle. The way out was just one long hallway away, and then they were home free. 

It was a straight hall, barely any turns. Sylnan wasn’t quite sure what this part of the castle was used for, but every so often, they would pass a door, and every single time, Sylnan was paranoid that someone- be it a noble or a guard- would appear, and their efforts to save Br’aad would have been in vain. 

Ever conscious of his brother, Sylnan tried his best to go slowly so that Br’aad wouldn’t be jostled about too much. Despite his best efforts, he could feel a growing patch of what he knew deep down was blood. It had begun to seep through the material of the cloak, and he felt panic swelling within him. What if they didn’t make it to Vel in time? What if they got caught before they even made it that far?

Eventually however, they made it to the end of the corridor, and pushing the heavy door open, they emerged near the front gate. It wasn’t ideal, especially given Br’aad’s current state, but Sylnan had already bullshitted into the prison cell, it couldn’t be much harder to bullshit his way out of the castle.

Trying to walk like he wasn’t carrying a body in a sack, he approached the two guards stationed at the front gate- both dressed in armour similar to what he was wearing. As he came to a stop in front of them, one looked the sack up and down, while the other spoke up.

“What business do you have leaving the castle at this time?” Both of the guards hands were gripping his pike, though he wasn’t standing in any sort of offensive stance.

“Oh, uh… This sack was brought in by one of the others. I have been instructed to dispose of it.” He tried to look put out- like it was some stupid chore he didn’t want to be doing- and as the guards exchanged glances, he was worried that his lie had been caught.

“Very well. Don’t be gone too long though, you know how the King can get.” The gate was raised, and he received small nods from both men as he made his way through. As soon as he was out of sight, he placed the makeshift sack down gently, and pulled the scorpion out of his pocket- which became Taxi once more.

“Sylnan, c’mon. We can’t stop here, we have to get to Velrisa!” Sylnan pulled the helmet off and let it fall to the floor as he turned to face the tabaxi.

“I- I know Taxi. It’s just… I don’t know if we’ll make it in time.” His friend's tail swished behind him as he bent down, pulling the injured half elf into his arms.

“We definitely won’t if we just stand around and mope. Just lead the way, I’m sure we’ll make it back in time.” Sylnan couldn’t be sure who Taxi was trying to reassure with his words, but he began walking nonetheless. Taxi had been right- it barely took them 5 minutes to reach the dank basement, but in that amount of time, Br’aad’s condition had only worsened.

Tristen- who had managed to make it back before them- jumped off the table and swept everything off of it to make room for the barely conscious half elf. Velrisa rushed forward from her corner, gently pulling the- now bloody- cloak off of him. The once white shirt was now drenched in reds and browns, and it clung to his skin. Offering her a dagger, Sylnan watched as the tiefling cut the fabric, peeling it away from what one could only assume were bandages. 

Practically more of a hindrance by this point, the bandages had blackened- more so on the left of his body, where the wound was- and they looked old. Old enough to show that he had received no medical aid since he had first been arrested. The skin around the outside of the bandage was a sickly colour, more so than the rest of his body. 

The wound under the bandage was even worse. There was already an odor from the ruined bandages, but the stench of the infected wound was nauseating. It was black inside, stitches that once closed the cut ripped apart, tearing the skin with them. The rancid conditions of the cell had rapidly advanced the infection.

Vel got to work immediately, first removing the remaining stitches before using her magic to take care of the rest. The infection had gotten so bad that it took a solid five minutes to heal the wound, and even that didn’t get rid of Br’aad’s severe fever. But he was alive, and that was all that mattered.

“So… What now?” Mountain’s question was certainly an important one. Now that they had Br’aad back, they had to get out of the wharf. But they couldn’t leave right away, not with Br’aad in this condition. Yet on the flipside, they would notice Br’aad’s disappearance soon, so if they left now it would guarantee their safety. 

As soon as they could, they packed up to leave. Br’aad was still barely conscious, but if they waited it was more likely they’d be caught. They covered Br’aad in the cloak once again, now black, and they moved to start making their ways to the sewers. But before they left-

“Tristen, are you coming with?” The question was out of left field, but Taxi figured he should ask.

“Nah. The wharf needs someone on the inside, and someone to make sure your stupid asses don’t get caught again.”

“I… alright then. Thank you Tristen.” The halfling gave Taxi a quick nod before he left the basement and joined the rest of the group, weaving their way to the sewer entrance.

Mountain had volunteered to carry Br’aad until he was able to walk by himself, and as he lowered the blonde half elf into the sewers, allowing him to climb down as well, he heard a groan come from the man.

“Sylnan. I think Br’aad might be waking up slightly more.” Sylnan was by his brother in an instant, pulling the cloak off of his body and staring at his face. It twitched slightly, and after a few seconds the purple of Br’aad’s eyes became visible and Sylnan tugged his brother into a tight hug.

“What in the fuck-” Sylnan felt his back slam into the sewer wall roughly, Br’aad stood in front of him. The younger man was pale and his skin was coated in sweat. He swayed, eyes seemingly unable to focus on anything as he struggled to stay upright.

“B-Br’aad?” Raising a hand, Sylnan moved to touch Br’aad’s face- to make sure this wasn’t some sick joke by  _ something _ \- but as his hand got close, it was weakly slapped away.

“Screw you, bastard. I thought I’d killed you already.” The words caused him to still. Killed him? Br’aad wasn’t the one that had killed him, but he seemed out of it.

“Br’aad, what’re you talking about? It wasn’t your fault, we’ve been over this. There was nothing else you could’ve done.” His brother growled at him, drawing back a fist and punching him in the face. It was weak, Sylnan could feel sweat left from Br’aad’s fist, and as he grabbed onto the others wrist, he could feel it shaking. 

“Don’t act like you don’t know,  _ Brenden.  _ You abandon us, disappear for so many years we thought you were dead, and then make me kill you?” Oh. So that was what was going on. 

“V-Vel!” She came over at hearing her name, catching some of Br’aad’s words as she assessed the situation. Standing behind the half elf, she held her hands out. A warm glow radiated from them, and the light almost seemed to push colour back into Br’aad’s skin. His eyes focused as he took a step back, and where he had once seen Brenden, he now saw Sylnan, pushed against a sewer wall, wearing his scarf and looking at him with wide eyes. 

Once his head was clear, Br’aad could feel the sorrow flooding him again. They risked their lives to save him after he fucked up once again by leaving. He fucked up again and he hurt them again. He didn’t understand why they didn’t just let him leave, why did they come back?

When Br’aad started crying, Sylnan held him. Taxi and Velrisa also joined in on consoling Br’aad. Mountain simply gave him a reassuring pat. 

“Why? Why did you come back… I did what you- what you wanted from me…” Br’aad’s words were interrupted by sniffling.

“Br’aad, look at me.” The half elf glanced down, meeting the eyes of Mountain. 

“Listen. I… I meant what I said, but that doesn’t mean it was the right thing to do. I, uh… I’m sorry.” Despite the uninterested nature of his friend's apology, it was an apology nonetheless, and Br’aad felt something in his chest warm at the words of his friend. 

The crying half-elf wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. When he finally took in his surroundings, he realized that they were back in the sewers. They’d probably cause another mass panic in the wharf, but at this point Br’aad couldn’t care any less. He just wanted to get out of there.

“So… now what?”

“We go back through the tunnels to Viecta I assume.”

“Great. I’ll lead the way back.”

As Taxi lead them on their journey back through the sewers, Br’aad stayed towards the back of the group, still dressed in his prisoner garb. He’d change when they settled down for the night. Sylnan walked next to Br’aad, clearly making sure he was okay.

“Hey, Br’aad?”

“Yeah?”

“I… Uhm… Here.” The half elf handed his brother something he hadn’t seen in years. It was an old doll he’d had when he was a kid, a worn hand-me-down and elven ears plastered on. He thought they’d gotten rid of it.

“What’s this for?”

“I found it in one of our old boxes. I remembered that you used to hold it when you were upset. I just… I just figured that maybe you’d need something like that right now.”

Br’aad looked back down at the worn toy in his hands again. He smiled as the memories came back to him, times when life was a lot simpler. He laughed to himself, giving his doll a light squeeze.

“Thank you.”


End file.
